


Day 2

by Sang_argente



Series: sastiel love week 2016 2.0 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lucifer's Cage (mentioned), M/M, Soulless Sam (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/pseuds/Sang_argente
Summary: How they got together

At first, it's a comfort thing, just days on end spent in Sam’s bed. They're both the only person each other has and they can't imagine leaving each other for something as insignificant as sex. So they stay together and lay in Sam's bed, quiet breaths and even quieter whispers passing between them.





	

Sam and Castiel get together while Dean is gone after the whole mess with Gadreel. At first, it's a comfort thing, just days on end spent in Sam’s bed. They're both the only person each other has and they can't imagine leaving each other for something as insignificant as sex. So they stay together and lay in Sam's bed, quiet breaths and even quieter whispers passing between them.

It's hard, at first. Sam's worthless and tainted and human. Castiel is too cold, too knowing, too angelic. They lay next to each other, both too scared to reach out but more scared of being alone.

“I hate you for saving Dean when I couldn't,” Sam whispers into the pillowcase, rough fabric scraping against his cheek as he turns to look at Castiel.

Castiel turns his head just enough to look back at Sam with those eyes too blue to be human. “You tried, Sam. Everything you could have done with the knowledge you had, you did. I just had more of the story.”

Sam smiles at him weakly. “I know. Thanks.”

Castiel nods, frowning. “I hate you for making me question what I thought I knew.”

“I thought Dean did that,” Sam says, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What with your profound bond or whatever.”

“Somewhat,” Castiel admits. “But you more so. I had been told that you were the abomination, everything to fear. But when I met you, all I could see was your soul. It was so bright that I just stood there, asking myself how could this boy start the apocalypse? I watched you all that time, watched as the boy with the demon blood got closer and closer to the ultimate goal and not once did your soul stop shining. I knew then that whatever I had been told wasn’t right. It hurt, but I was glad for it.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Sam says, knowing how much it hurts when the lies fade away and the truth is the only thing that’s left.

Castiel turn his head away, eyes closed, and Sam lets his breathing even out. The angel doesn’t sleep, but he does.

A lot of their conversations end like that in the beginning.  
~~  
“I hate you for calling me all those things,” Sam says another day, fingers plucking at the blanket restlessly. “The boy with the demon blood, abomination, monster. I hate you for putting the truth out there like that so I couldn’t ignore it.”

“That’s what you were, what you are,” Castiel says calmly. He straightens the blanket every time Sam pulls it up and that, coupled with his frank words, is more soothing than anything. “I never meant to imply that this somehow made you wrong or not worth saving. It was the truth and back then I had no idea how much the truth could hurt. I thought that lies hurt, that lies were wrong. It never occurred to me that humans lie to stop the hurt.”

Sam huffs softly, not really a laugh but not really much of anything else either. “Sometimes.”

“You and Dean more than others,” Castiel says knowingly.

“Not that it does any good.”

“No,” Castiel agrees. “And I hate you for that. You and your brother spent the entire apocalypse trying to make it hurt less than it was, lying and lying and lying. It was the Apocalypse, of course it was going to hurt.”

“I know,” Sam whispers as he rolls over, leaving his back to face Castiel.

“You and Dean more than others,” Castiel says again, reaching out to lay a hand against Sam’s back. He closes his eyes and leaves it there, reveling in the way it lifts and falls with Sam’s breaths. There was a time when it wouldn’t have and that pains him more than he would have expected during the Apocalypse.  
~~  
“I hate you for bringing me back from the Cage,” Sam says a couple days later as he lays underneath the three blankets Castiel had gotten out of the closet earlier that morning, wanting to stop Sam from shaking apart during his nightmares.

“I couldn’t leave you there.”

“Better to leave me there than to bring me back soulless,” Sam spits out bitterly.

Castiel lays another blanket over Sam gently. “I’m sorry.”

Nothing else is said that day.  
~~  
“I hate you for reminding me that it was my fault you were soulless,” Castiel hisses out from where he’s curled at the foot of the bed. It’s been an uncommonly rough day on him for some reason and he wants to be as alone as he can get without leaving the bed. “I hate you for bringing up that failure.”

Sam watches him sadly, curled in a similar position in the opposite corner of the bed. There’s a hole in his jeans that’s been getting ever wider all day and he picks at it as he listens to Castiel.

“I tried. I tried to bring you back whole, unlike you insinuated. And I did it for you. Not for Dean, because he was fine with Lisa. Not for me, because I wouldn’t have involved you in the war in Heaven anyway. For you, because you didn’t deserve to be in Hell. No soul as pure as yours deserves that.”

“And I tried!” Castiel screams into his knees, fingers curled tight around the sleeves of his trenchcoat. “I just didn’t try hard enough.”

“You did,” Sam reassures. He wants badly to curl his fingers around Castiel’s, but he knows that wouldn’t be well-received by the angel at this point. “You tried and that’s enough. It’s enough for me and I’m the only one that counts.”

Castiel reaches his hand out blindly, not lifting his head from his knees, and tangles his fingers with Sam’s.

After that, it starts to go smoother.  
~~  
“I was scared for you after you opened Purgatory,” Sam whispers into the pillow. The cases have been replaced by a softer bamboo blend fabric and it glides against his cheek as he turns to look at the angel. “You swallowed all those souls and named yourself God and all I could think of was how I didn’t know any better when I was high on demon blood. I would have fell at your feet and worshiped you right then, but I knew it wasn’t what you wanted. The power of the souls was too much and all I wanted was to save you.”

“I remember,” Castiel says as he brings a hand up to caress Sam’s cheek. He looks at him with those too blue eyes, even brighter with the smile on his face.

Sam smiles, small and indulgent, but the confusion is obvious on his face. “Remember what?”

“The awe in your eyes when you saw me. The fear in your voice when you prayed to me. When my vessel began to fall apart under the strain of the Leviathans, I thought of you and that awe, that fear. That’s when I knew I had made a mistake.”

Sam wraps a hand around Castiel’s and curls his body around that point of contact. He plants small fluttery kisses on the angel’s palm until he falls asleep.

Castiel, on the other hand, stays awake to see the peace on Sam’s face. It’s one night in a thousand without nightmares.

“I worried about you constantly after the wall fell,” Castiel brings up a few days later. It’s been eating at him since their last late night confessional. For that’s what they are, he’s realized. Confessionals.

Sam looks up at him from where he’d laid his head on Castiel’s chest. The heartbeat and breathing were just a bit irregular, as if the angel still hadn’t settled on the pattern after all this time, but it was soothing to Sam.

“Why would you bring that up now?” He asks, curious but not angry. 

“Because it was one of my worst mistakes,” Castiel admits. “At the time, I didn’t think of the consequences, too wrapped up in my plans. Now, though, I can only think of how hurt you were, how much it’s still hurting you. I’m ashamed that I was so ruined at one point to do that to someone I cared about.”

“You were and you did,” Sam says shortly, not really wanting to think about the months of sleepless nights and hallucinations and fear that followed him after that day but knowing what Castiel needs to hear. The truth. “But you took that pain from me when you had fixed yourself. You willingly damaged your own mind trying to apologize for mine. I knew that then, I know it now, and I don’t blame you anymore.”

“You should,” Castiel says forcefully.

Sam drops his head back down and focuses on Castiel’s heartbeat again. It has a slight uptick and that right there tells Sam that while, yes, Castiel thinks he should blame him, he’s happy he doesn’t. That’s all he needs to let go of any lingering feelings about it.  
~~  
Almost a week later, a week of good days and better nights, the mood creeps in again. This time it’s Sam. Sam who’s curled in on himself, shaking and sobbing. Sam who can barely register his bedmate.

“You and Dean were gone and I was alone. I wanted my brother, I wanted my friend, but I had no one. So, yeah, I dropped the ball on Kevin and yeah, I let Crowley go. And then I got into the car and drove through I don’t know how many states. I didn’t know where I was going and I didn’t care. It wasn’t until I hit that stupid dog that I realized…”

“Realized what, Sam?” Castiel asks quietly, keeping his arms around Sam and waiting patiently for the answer. He has an idea and he doesn’t really want to know if he’s right, but he has to. For Sam.

“I hadn’t eaten in days. Hadn’t slept either. I was doing 90 down a winding road. You add it up.”

“Sam.”

He’s never heard his name like that, not from Castiel. It sounds like it was wrenched from the very bottom of his soul, or grace as the case may be. He’s only ever heard Dean say his name like that, when he’s dying or near to it. It’s this that brings him around.

“I’m sorry,” he cries as he pulls Castiel’s arm around him tighter. The angel obliges, holding him so tight his ribs creak, but Sam won’t let him let go. “I didn’t know where you were, where Dean was, or I would’ve- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Castiel says roughly. There’s a wetness on his cheeks and at any other time he’d be amazed because he’s never cried in his vessel before. But all he can think of right now is Sam. Sam, all alone, not really trying to die but not really trying to stop it either. “Don’t apologize. Just...just stay here. With me.”

“With you,” Sam repeats shakily and lifts their tangled hands to press a soft kiss against Castiel’s skin.  
~~  
From then on, their late nights are no longer confessionals. There’s nothing more to confess. Instead, Sam talks about classes he took at college and pranks he played on Dean and things he wished he could’ve told his dad. Castiel, in turn, speaks about ancient history he witnessed and battles he fought and angels that he misses.

They lay in that bed, no longer Sam’s 1950’s relic with a saggy mattress and rough sheets but their pillow-top with bamboo blend sheets and a down comforter that Castiel says feels like wings, and twine together, body and soul.

It’s not until Dean comes back, tail between his legs and mark on his arm, that they realize that’s what’s happened. They eat dinner together, sharing worried looks about how much Dean’s drinking and quiet smiles about their family being back together. They stay huddled around the table until Sam’s head is slipping to the side and Castiel gently wakes him with a kiss on the forehead.

“Bedtime, Samuel,” he teases gently as he helps him stand. Sam hums and falls into his side trustingly, endless nights just like this one leaving him barely awake since he knows Castiel will take care of him.

They shuffle off to their room, to their bed, just like every other night, calm and unhurried. They don’t realize Dean’s following them or that he’s leaning against the doorframe watching as Castiel turns the covers down and helps Sam slip into bed.

Sam falls asleep almost immediately, little huffs of breath letting Castiel know that he’s truly out. He’s toeing off his shoes and getting ready to slide in beside him when Dean speaks.

“So, what, you two together now or something?” Dean asks, a frown spread over his face.

It’s been a long time so Castiel knows what that frown means, just as he knows what the tight grip Sam has on the comforter means, despite seemingly sleeping. He looks from one tense brother lying in bed to the other tense brother standing in the doorway and sighs. Winchesters, he swears to himself affectionately.

“Yes, Dean, we’re together,” Castiel says honestly, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam’s fingers relax and a tiny smile slips onto his face. He makes a mental note to request payback for leaving him to deal with Dean alone. “I hope you’ll be happy for us.”

Dean stares past Castiel, years of experience watching over his brother making it easy to tell when the little bitch is really asleep. He can see that smile, but he can also see the tight lines around Sam’s eyes. He sighs to himself, the love he has for his little brother and his best friend trampling over any feelings of betrayal he might have had.

“Yeah, Cas. I’m happy for you,” he says, before turning to leave. He shuts the door and leaves the two of them alone, heading to his room to get some sleep himself.

On the other side of the door, Sam waits for Castiel to lay down beside him before moving to curl up beside him.

“I love you for standing up to Dean,” he whispers cheekily, eyes closed but smile threatening to break across his face.

Castiel closes his own eyes and tightens his arm around Sam. “I just love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> for johnnwinchester on tumblr for sastiel love week.


End file.
